her shoulder blades were made of a thousand paper cranes
so breakable and small
when they hunched she seemed to whisper
i could fly away from here
and you won’t ever know me at all

we thought about the ice age
we made picture books
and discussed the likelihood that we’d find her
captured in an iceberg
her bones all melting into snow

and we had a leader once
but he’s been gone since the temperature
dropped so low
we all know, he’s somewhere we’ll all eventually go
sometimes my acceptance is the only thing i have to offer

now we sing and chase in circles
waiting for the part where we all
fall down

the day you come around
will be anything but beautiful